


Snop

by lauraloves



Category: Bård Ylvisåker - Fandom, Ylvis
Genre: M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 02:41:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2050410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauraloves/pseuds/lauraloves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whatever gets you off, I guess...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snop

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this about four months ago and completely forgot it existed. It's inspired by Bård talking on the Ylvis III audio commentary about the hot Swedish bloke who rigged up the bungee cords for the 'gangsta baby' number. So yeah, enjoy?

My eyelids feel heavy as I fumble for my card key in my back pocket. I locate it and sigh as I enter the small room. This particular hotel room is very basic, and aside from the en suite bathroom it consists of only a single bed, night stand and a TV that looks like it pre-dates… me. Yet still I am glad to finally be alone. The day has been long and hard and I’m ready to crash. Back-to-back rehearsals and meetings have taken their toll; not to mention the travelling from bland hotel to bland hotel. All rooms, all towns, and all the people… they have all passed me by in a blur. Tomorrow I have to do it all again, but for tonight I just need some time away from the madness. Which is why I waved goodnight to the band, who I can still hear laughing in the adjacent room as I shut the door behind me.

I run my hands through my hair, which feels lank and heavy.As much as I just want to collapse on the small bed and not surface for at least 12 hours, I know I will feel better for a hot shower. I discard my t shirt, sweat pants and boxer shorts on the bathroom floor, step inside and turn on the shower. I grimace as the water runs just a little bit too cold at first.My torso is covered in goose pimples and my nipples are hard as nails. Gradually the warm water kicks in, and I find myself relaxing as it runs over my tired body.

I grab the bar of soap and work it in my hands to form a lather, and as I touch my body a myriad of thoughts, mental images flash through my brain. A memory from earlier that day surfaces. In my mind’s eye I am back at rehearsals tuning my guitar and working on some chords with Lars,but I can’t seem to focus. I keep looking up towards the stage, where the crew are fastening the bungee bolts to the ceiling. I see him standing there in a white vest. The lights of the Chat Noir stage are shining on him from all directions, accentuating the muscles in his arms and chest. Lars is clicking his fingers to hold my attention, but I find myself transfixed as my gaze travels down his washboard stomach to those tight pants…

The steam is fogging the room as my hands travel further down my torso. Already I know I am getting hard. Getting hard at the thought of him. At first I had been alarmed, worried about what it meant. However, I am smart enough to differentiate fantasy from reality. Over the past few nights I have learnt to embrace the fantasy, to just ‘go with it’, and not question why. As my hands work their way down to my growing erection I think about our eyes meeting across the crowded room. Corny as fuck,but true. He gives me that knowing smile, and I feel my cheeks flush, having essentially been caught checking him out. I’m going to be paying for that later, I think to myself as I take a sip of water and try and focus on learning the music for the final number of the show.

I cup my balls with my left hand as I work the right one up and down my shaft in that old familiar way. This particular pastime which has kept me company for the many dull nights when I’ve slept alone. The internet normally helps, and often the hotel room will have an interesting channel to help me along. My brother will roll his eyes when he sees the bill upon checkout, but really it’s no big deal. However, this time is different. As hard as I tried to shake it off, I just can’t stop thinking about him. Him?! I’ve never fantasised about another man before, but there is just something about this one that I can’t resist. That pleasurable feeling intensifies as I imagine me and him alone together at last.

I close my eyes and part my lips slightly, and all at once he is with me behind that shower curtain, my dirty secret. His lips lock on mine, and his hand takes the place of my own on my rock hard shaft, giving me the freedom to explore those chiseled features I’ve been admiring from afar since the moment I first saw him. His body feels so like my own, but yet so alien. He continues to jerk me off as my tongue probes his willing mouth. I squeeze his ass, which feels so taught and unlike a woman’s, and finally grip onto his hips as he starts bucking. The provocation is too much and I reach out to start stroking him in return. He feels good in my hands. Smaller, but thicker. The tempo increases as we are both going at it. I’m almost willing to take this to another level, and start to imagine what it would feel like to be forced on to my knees to take that cock whole in my mouth, when suddenly the sensation is so intense. My cock throbs, and when I come it is explosive. I imagine his moans, and my mouth filling with hot, salty cum as the water from the shower beats down on us.

I open my eyes to a steam-filled bathroom. Alone, as I always was. I switch off the tap and wrap myself in a towel. Within what seems like moments I am on the bed and again wondering what the fuck has happened tome. But those thoughts don't linger for long before I fall into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.


End file.
